


Sasusaku Month 2019

by kycantina



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Tumblr: sasusakumonth, i wanted to participate even though i'm not a major ss shipper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kycantina/pseuds/kycantina
Summary: My entries for Sasusaku Month 2019.





	1. Don't Read The Last Page, But I Stay

“Sak?” 

“Yes?” Sakura sits up, eyes sleepy and hair still messy from her cheap mattress. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Sasuke narrows her eyes at her, sitting down on the other side of the bed, next to her.  _ His side _ . “Often have men breaking into the apartment at four am for deep talks?”

She shakes her head. “Naruto, Kakashi, sometimes Rock Lee, on an off night.” Sakura half-jokes, but Sasuke doesn’t get it. “Not that you would you would know.” She adds quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk.”

Sakura turns around to look at him. “Yeah? Sarada’s busy this weekend, if you were wondering. How about January?”

Sasuke rolls her eyes at her. “She  _ is _ my daughter, Sakura.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She reaches out to touch his face. “I have to see it every day. Even when I don’t leave the windows unlocked.” Sakura rolls her eyes. “Anyways, what do you need?”

“To fucking rest.” He sighs, lying down and taking her with him. She laughs softly. “It’s true.”

“Really, done with sleeping on the ground?” 

“Done not sleeping.” Sasuke mumbled. “And Naruto keeps bitching at me to come home and be a husband more often.”

“He’s not wrong, but you can tell him he needs to go home once in a while and be a husband too. Stop whining at my kitchen table that he’s a bad father and go help Hinata with dinner or something.”

He laughs softly, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. “I will, promise.” Sasuke kisses the bridge of her nose, and for a moment, Sakura lets herself forget that it isn’t always like this, not all little pillowtalk kisses and midnight conversations.

“So what’s this about you needing to sleep? What about revenge revenge revenge?” She grins at him, kissing him back. 

“That was a long time ago, you know that.” Sasuke pouts, and it almost feels natural, domestic, even. 

“You don’t change. It’s been damn near thirty years, Uchiha. I’d know.”

He glares at her before laughing softly, kissing her again on the forehead. “Been thirty years for me too, Sak. You don’t change either.”

Sakura shrugs. “If you’re so tired, sleep.” She mumbles, throwing an arm around his waist. “We can talk about all these coming home shenanigans tomorrow, kay?"


	2. Closer, Maybe We'll Be Closer

The bed is empty when Sakura wakes up the next morning, the smell of him faint and fading. Sasuke must have left as soon as she fell asleep, or it had all been a dream. The bittersweet thought leaves Sakura cursing under her breath. He had the decency to close the bedroom window on his way out, leaving a rose petal on her windowsill. She glares at it, in between annoyance and melancholy. He's always like this, hot and cold. Sakura knows his schedule all too well. Sasuke comes home, for a few days at a time, at least twice a year. More if she's lucky. Sasuke remembers both of their birthdays, even if the cards come creased and ripped and late. Sakura resents being built into his system, so deeply ingrained in Sasuke Uchiha. 

She pulls herself out of bed, sighing to herself. So what if he was gone, so what if he didn’t love her. Sakura still has her career, her daughter. Sasuke needs her, he needs her hands, her fingers, her healing touch. He needs her lips, her affections. Sasuke needs her bed, to come home to when he’s cold and stricken down, godammit. Sakura comforts himself with this, as she wraps herself in her comforter and wanders into the master bathroom, rubbing her eyes and gently washing her face. She’s sure she’ll run into Sasuke at some point today, he always comes back, and Sasuke doesn’t stay away for long.

Sakura pauses to stand in Sarada’s doorway, smiling at her nearly teenage little girl. She wishes life had been a little kinder to her, that her daughter had her father around for more than a few days at a time. Sakura wishes that Sasuke had the decency to stick around no matter if it was convenient to him. She detests being stuck on his schedule. Sakura hates knowing how he takes his coffee and the way he loves: too deeply and without remorse.

She goes downstairs to start breakfast, looking forward to her morning shift, with no doubt that Sasuke would find some way to ruin it. She cracks her eggs on the side of the pan when there’s a knock on the front door, Sakura can’t help but laugh to herself. “Well, this is new.” She comments, one hand on the door frame.

“Don’t get too excited.” Sasuke practically glares at her. “I’m not in Konoha for too long.”

“When are you?” Sakura rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Sas. I thought last night was a dream. You’re lucky I didn’t call the police.”

That gets Sasuke laughing, if only to himself. “Do you want to get lunch later?” He asks the kitchen tile. Sasuke, her Sasuke who’s fought everything that’s moved, afraid to talk to his goddamn wife.

“I thought you weren’t sticking around.” Her breakfast is burning, Sakura doesn’t care.

He shrugs. “I can make time.”


	3. Baby Really Hurt Me

Tsunade, after a few drinks, always told Sakura that laughter wasn't the best medicine, it was good, thorough, sex. This was how she'd ended up with Sasuke, one hand buried in his hair, the other planted on his shoulder, keeping him firmly down, tucked under her desk like a poorly kept secret. Sakura bites her lip, fidgeting her tunic back into place. She glances out the windows of her office, giving Sasuke a little shove just to keep him down before standing up and stretching. 

It's different in the daytime, it's different when she's sober, and in her right mind too. Sakura

can't help but feel like she's on an even playing field, just this once, as she lowers her office blinds and turns on a heel (the nice ones, reserved for love affairs and meetings) to face him. 

Sasuke looks different in the daylight too, his normally harsh lines softened by the light of day. He looks younger, if Sakura's honest with herself, which she normally isn't. Sasuke isn't her medicine, he's closer to a cigarette. Once in a while won't hurt anyone, but it's a bad habit. Sasuke is a bad habit. His hair, soft from her fingertips, his eyes, incessant as ever. It's cute, maybe even a little endearing. He perches himself on her desk, looking almost hurt, like she knows he would.

"Dinner?" She offers, even though she wants anything but. "I know you haven't seen anyone in a while." Anyone but her, Sakura lets it go unspoken, she doesn't care that he considers her to be somewhere between a lover and a liability.

She has a hand on his shoulder, fingertips ready to tug at his collar. He rolls it off. "I'm not

hungry." Sasuke says it simply, one hand around her wrist. Sakura can't help but feel seventeen again, when they wanted what they had now, in as few words as possible.

"I'm not some fling, you know." Sakura asserts herself instead of kissing him on his stupid prick mouth like she wants to, feeling more like a teenager than ever.

"Yeah, I know. You're too clingy to even consider it, sweetheart." Sasuke teases, his mouth soft against hers. "I just don't want to waste time."

Sakura pouts biting her bottom lip before it brushes his jawline. "Shut up, I mean it." She plants a hand to his chest, which he catches, interlacing their fingers.

"I'm sure you do." Sasuke smirks, pressing a kiss to the space in between her wrist and her palm.

Sakura wants to strangle him, not for the first time in their regrettable sexual history. She shoves him again, this time with darker intentions. He feigns losing his balance, just to piss her off.

"Do you still want me to come to dinner?" His look goes from humor to pity in an instant.

"No."

"Good."


	4. Suburbia, Give Me My God Again

The light shines in his eyes, and Sakura can taste the danger in the air. Sasuke could burn Konoha to the ground if he wanted to, and he does, he wants to. The only thing holding him back is a little girl, a best friend and a wife who he's never bothered to know or love but hold him back nonetheless. 

It's  _ supposed _ to be a normal evening, a regularly scheduled date night, as if anything in their life could ever run on a time table. Sarada is at the Uzumakis' for the night, and Sakura wishes, not for the first time, that her daughter had more female friends, an Ino Yamanaka to call on the late nights when Sasuke doesn't come home when he said he would. Ino, her closest confidante. Boruto was a good kid, of that Sakura was sure. It would be fitting enough, all of team seven, right where they're meant to be. After nearly thirty years of pain and pining between the three of them, it would be a bittersweet ending that would let them retire to separate lives.

Sakura's dress feels too new, the velvet stiff and rustling from months in the closet, the dress too low cut and Sakura too insecure to wear it out, especially with Sasuke on her arm. Ino had picked it out when she and Sai were still on and off, matching black velvet and satin dresses, ice blue and sea green detailing and buttons down her hips. Normal date night, right? Sasuke's holding her hand too loosely to be comfortable or romantic or right. The shine of downtown Konoha flashes in his dark eyes, Sakura bites her lip and holds her breath. she shouldn't feel this vulnerable, especially walking home from dinner with her husband, for Christ's sake. It's their ten year anniversary, or as close as they could get to it; they're only four months off, work, for both of them, is busier than ever, nothing ever bending to accommodate their family.

Sakura glances to him, pale jade eyes meeting his onyx ones. "It's a nice night, don't you think?"

Sasuke rolls his eyes, one hand straying to the small of her back. Sakura hates this, hates being in charge of the conversation constantly.

She decides against saying anything else, whether that be for her own safety or her own self-interest. There's hardly any use in it, in entertaining the idea of being married, if only for one weekend a month (or seven months, Sasuke's still more married to his revenge than he could ever be to her, no matter how much Sakura tries to deny it). They turn the corner, the lights of home looking more inviting than ever, the end of a long night of pretending to be perfect, off to bed with nothing more than Sasuke glaring at her when she wishes him "sweet dreams" when Sakura crawls into bed next to him. All for the illusion of a marriage they'll never hope to achieve.

Sakura turns to him, a teasing smirk flickering on her lips, the ghost of her girlhood, when she could have Sasuke and everything that came with him. "Well, we're here."

He shrugs, and Sakura can see his muscles tense, she braces herself for the eye roll. "What, you want me to kiss you goodbye?"

Sakura wants to shove him so hard Sakura wants to shove him so hard her hands shake (actually). Instead, she blushes. "Don't be childish." Sakura mutters, rolling her eyes at him (typical, all these years of murder attempts and marriage later and he's still fining new ways to piss her off. "I just wasn't expecting you to come home, that's all."

Sasuke shrugs. “You’re bold, to expect anything from me.”


End file.
